The Next Day Poem by Julia Luber

And going back in memory feels more and more like death.
What you are really trying to do is find some redeeming function to
LIFE. That these emotions you remember when you were younger
and more naive-those are your true self: that which can engage
the wonder and magic of the world and life. But it is more and more of
a struggle everyday. It is hard to find a basis to try and feel some
sincere connection to this thing known as existence. We beg for a goal-
for something that locks us in, alerts us to and reminds us of
life's meaning and goodness. Some part of ourselves can't discern
this to be the differences of begging and prayers, desperation and desire.
All one really knows that it is not today that one is living for, but something
exciting and wonderful that might happen tomorrow or even the next day.